


Ser Fluffington

by Sannguine



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Drabble, General Hawke party shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2228871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sannguine/pseuds/Sannguine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when you’re friends with me and you give me crazy ideas to run with. For Enma, because I love them and they deal with my Anders feels. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ser Fluffington

It wasn’t like he stalked Darktown on a daily basis or anything farfetched like that, looking for any felines that might have been (fortuitously for him) stranded and alone, seeking shelter in a way that the apostate himself could symapthise with.

Except for the fact that, yes, he clearly did. And it seemed as if his (tediously) hard work of scouring the more undesirable parts of Kirkwall were beginning to pay off. Or at least, when he started noticing the ceremonial plates of cream he’d been setting out on a nightly basis starting to disappear by morning, he added it up.

He was returning to his clinic late one night after spending the better portion of his evening down at the Hanged Man with his friends, loosing majority of his coin to Isabela and Hawke in Wicked Grace. Not that he minded, really, considering that Hawke always made it a point to stop by later in the week and return to him the money the two ladies managed to take from him.

How he had lucked out when Hawke stumbled into his clinic that afternoon, he’d never be able to figure out. But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was a tiny thing, really, could have easily been mistaken for debris that was commonplace in Darktown, but Anders knew better, of course.

It took nearly a week of bribery and coaxing on the mage’s part, until the tiny feline would approach him willingly, and another five days thereafter until he was able to pick the tiny ball of fluff up and carry it around his clinic with him.

"Oh, he’s adorable!" Merrill proclaimed one afternoon, stopping by to drop off some supplies for Anders.

To both their surprise, the kitten, now named Ser Fluffington the Third, meowed at the elf and stared up at her with big, golden eyes, and handing him off gently to Merrill, he curled up into her robes and pawed at the cloth playfully.

Anders smiled, organising the supplies into the correct homes as the blood mage bonded with his new companion. “He’s become oddly affectionate the past few days.”

"I see, oh he’s so cute I could just eat him right up!"

Both Ser Fluffington and Anders shared a look before the healer spoke up. “Ah-heh, yeah.. don’t.”

Merrill, not really noticing her unusual choice of words (as she normally did) begrudgingly handed the feline back over to his owner and bid them both farewell.

~

It was another four days before anyone else came to visit the clinic, aside from the occasional homeless person needing healing. It was Hawke and her entourage, Isabela, Fenris and Varric, naturally, that came parading through his hideout.

"I heard you’re hoarding pussy now, Anders." Hawke chimed as she walked in, ever the charmer, with Isabela at her hip per usual, who spoke up next.

"Haha. It’s probably the first one he’s seen in ages. I don’t think Desire Demon’s in the Fade count, do they? I should pay more attention next time, saucy things that they are."

"Good idea, though.. It’s doubtful, I mean, do they even….?" Hawke began to motion with her hands, and Anders needed to react immediately before this got any worse.

"Ah yes, the Champion of Kirkwall, in all her glory, coming to visit little old me. How can I help you, Hawke?" it was banter he was far too used to by now, damn near seven years past, and yet, he didn’t mind — it reminded him of his friendships with Nathaniel and Karl.

They were memories he would take to the Void, though they tasted bittersweet in his mind.

"What? We can’t stop by to visit?"

"It’s never just "a visit" with you, Hawke. Especially not with the party you’ve got accompanying you."

Varric, somewhere behind the rest of them, spoke up. “You heard that Broody? He called you a good time.”

"Remarkable."

"Honest." Hawke interjected, already feeling the shift in the atmosphere that was putting Fenris and Anders in the same room together for more than five seconds. Or maybe that was the sexual tension. She really didn’t care anymore, not that it mattered. “That, and maybe we came to see Ser Fluffington. Maybe.”

"Oh, he’s uhh.. where is the little fella."

There was a slight look of panic on Ander’s face as he scoped the room, eyes sweeping over the places he knew his furry companion favored, but they all turned up negative.

"By Andraste’s flaming knickers, would you take a look at that."

Everyone had spun around to face Varric, who was staring up at elf in disbelief. And with good reason. Hawke, instantaneously, burst into a fit of laughter.

"Hawke," Fenris began, but was drowned out by the sounds of laughter.

"How come you didn’t say anything earlier?" their dwarven partner questioned, eying the tiny spotted furball as it struggled to stay upright on the spiky pauldrons of Fenris’ armor, swatting at it tentatively.

"I didn’t believe it was necessary."

Anders was almost stunned speechless. “How’d he even get up there? What.. you.. Wait, you actually picked it up? You, who abhors everything,.”

Hawke was still laughing. “Who knew Fenris had a sensitive side.”

You could hear Isabela swooning a mile away. “Ooh, I like a man with a sensitive side.”

"You like a lot of men, Rivaini. And women."

"And dwarves, on occasion." she purred, taking a step closer to her drinking partner.

"Now now, this is strictly a business relationship, I’m sorry. The only woman for me is Bianca."

"Spoilsport."

Always the voice of moderate reason, Hawke piped up. “Guys, guys, please. Focus.”

Ser Fluffington was now preoccupied with swatting at the very vicious looking spikes that were supposed to intimidate everyone that dared to look at Fenris. Except, of course, tiny kittens.

"I can’t believe he would actually go to Fenris. I thought for sure he would sense the infinite amount of anger he possess for everything." Anders was muttering to himself.

"Contrary to your narrow-minded beliefs, abomination, I am capable of showing compassion to those that deserve it."

To which, Hawke nodded subconsciously. She’d seen it, who was she to disagree.

It was when Ser Fluffington began to paw at the markings along Fenris’ chin and throat, curiosity being the nature of the beast, that the group tensed up, waiting.

Hawke herself experienced firsthand what happens when someone mistakenly touches his markings. Would it be any different when the culprit is little more than a ball of spotted fluff and a weak meow?

Well… apparently it was.

Fenris was careful, almost endearingly so, in the way he stroked the ball of fluff resting between the spikes in his armor and his face, intent on rubbing the feline behind his ears with a clawed hand as he tested with one spotted paw the markings along Fenris’ cheek.

The elf smiled, briefly, fainting, but it was enough to render the entire group speechless.

Ser Fluffington responded in nudging his chin against the gauntlet affectionately and head-butting the palm of Fenris’ hand, demanding more scratches, and the warrior obliged without hesitation.

"I can’t bloody believe this," behind them, Anders was shaking his head and collecting his staff — he needed a drink.

"Chantry better mark this day on their calendars. Broody made a new friend."


End file.
